


Soft silky smooth

by hwshipper



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot, Semipublic Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-24
Updated: 2008-07-24
Packaged: 2017-10-08 02:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hwshipper/pseuds/hwshipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House and Wilson go to the movies.</p><p><strong>Excerpt: </strong>
<em>Wilson vanished, only to reappear as a head of soft silky brown hair bobbing up between House's knees.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft silky smooth

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [](http://triedunture.livejournal.com/profile)[**triedunture**](http://triedunture.livejournal.com/) (as a deleted scene for Twenty Years; then re-written as a standalone in honour of [](http://community.livejournal.com/pull_on_wilson/profile)[**pull_on_wilson**](http://community.livejournal.com/pull_on_wilson/)).

Wilson had just had a fling with some grossly inappropriate woman again, and apologized to House in the same way they always apologized to each other; by offering food, drink, a movie and sex. House was slightly surprised, however, when, instead of showing up with a video, Wilson appeared with two tickets to go to a movie.

"This is for that killer surfing bikini vampire girl movie," House observed. They'd laughed at the review in the paper the previous week.

"That is its official title," Wilson deadpanned.

House shrugged. Why not?

As it turned out, it was perfect. It was a late night showing at a fleapit movie theater. Wilson bought hot dogs, Cokes, and a tall tower of popcorn, and they sat at the back and munched their way through. There were a scattered assortment of other viewers, but nobody anywhere near them, and Wilson pressed a thigh up against House's thigh from the start.

Mid-movie, with the popcorn long gone, two of the killer bikini vampire girls were having an underwater fight and House was lazily aware of a gradually dawning erection. Then Wilson slid a hand into his lap. Suddenly the gradual dawn became almost instantaneous sunrise.

"Wilson, what the hell?" House murmured, surprised.

In answer, deft fingers plucked open his fly.

"We're in a fucking movie theater," House gasped under his breath.

"Nobody's looking," Wilson's voice was almost inaudible. And then suddenly he wasn't in the seat next to House after all. Wilson vanished, only to reappear as a head of soft silky brown hair bobbing up between House's knees.

"Jesus fucking Christ," House uttered, then snapped his mouth shut before the couple three rows down on the right could hear.

One of the bikini vampire girls on the screen ripped off the other girl's bikini top at that moment, and House goggled equally at the large naked breast on the screen and the slightly rough lips wrapping around his expanding cock right now.

He put his hands on Wilson's head, and soft glossy hair threaded lightly through his fingertips. The fact that all House could see of Wilson was his hair, shiny in the dim light from the screen, sent an electric surge through House's groin; Wilson, existing only as lips and tongue and gleaming hair. House clasped a hand either side of Wilson's head, grabbing two fistfuls of lustrous strands.

Wilson's tongue slithered upwards, and House bit down on his lip to avoid uttering the moan rising in his throat. Fingertips tickled his balls, then a palm cupped and stroked and caressed, and House jolted in his seat. He wound fine sleek hair around his thumbs, tugging at Wilson's head. The pressure to not make any noise sent waves of white noise through House's skull, and he felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead.

The bikini vampire girls faded into large black dots on fuzzy white as House lost first his sight and then his hearing to this most intimate touch; a tongue on his dick and _soft silky smooth hair_ under his hands. He came with a gasp that he tried unsuccessfully to stifle, and this only increased the intensity.

House sat back, recovering, then put out a weak hand to touch Wilson's head. Wilson's hair wasn't quite as smooth as it had been; House stroked a tuft down clumsily, then pulled gently at a stray strand, trying to convey satisfaction.

Wilson stayed still for a few seconds, then vanished and rematerialized in the seat next to House, zipping up his own fly and brushing bits of popcorn off his pants as he did so. His hair was completely mussed up, and his pink and sweating face wore an expression of stupor. House realized to his delight that Wilson had come right there too, while kneeling on the floor.

A guy walked past the end of their row, and shot them a semi-curious look. House looked back, as wide-eyed and innocent as he could manage. The guy's eye fell on the dazed and disheveled Wilson, and he moved hastily on.

It had been, House decided as he settled back in his seat, a damn good apology.

END

 


End file.
